


Too Good to be Real

by Mandroid



Category: Night In The Woods (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Post-Canon, Some Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 06:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11099229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandroid/pseuds/Mandroid
Summary: Mae finally meets Bombshell at another college party.





	Too Good to be Real

“...And she’s incredibly smart. That’s why she got a full freakin’ ride to this school!” Mae said, raising her arms and gesturing at her best friend.

Bea laughed, a bit higher pitched than normal, just as fake as her laughter Mae heard at the first college party they went to. Hearing Bea’s voice  _ do that _ put Mae off because it was so  _ weird _ , and she didn’t like this weird fake Bea who studied accounting and only lived ten minutes from this house, but Bea was her friend, and if she wanted to hook up with a random, bratty, rich college kid studying bullshit like politics and sociology, then damn it, Mae was gonna help her get laid.

The hipster goat in the large, thick framed glasses smiled just slightly, careful enough to preserve the faux coolness oozing from him. “You want a drink, Bea?”

“No thanks, but I’ll take some soda,” she said, her voice still  _ weird _ .

“I’ll take a drink, though,” Jackie spoke up. Mae didn’t like hanging around Jackie for a multitude of reasons: she acted like she was Bea’s best friend when Mae claimed that title back when they were in scouts and then reclaimed it during the terrifying weeks after her return to Possum Springs. Jackie could _ never _ replace her no matter how hard she tried. Mae wished she’d stop trying at all.

Because Mae would be the one to replace Jackie, anyway. Jackie’s only role was to help Bea cope with not being able to go to college by inviting her to parties. She passively let Bea live out her fantasy, but Mae would facilitate it. The best wingman ever.

With a wide grin at that thought, Mae said, “Give me a drink, too!”

“Uh… sure,” the second guy said, pursing his lips. Mae narrowed her eyes at him and flashed her teeth, relishing in the power of making a prissy college dude do things for her.

As the boys slunk off to fetch drinks, Mae cleared her throat and lowered her voice, “I’m gonna go, uh, to the dancefloor for a bit.”

“You sure?” Jackie said in a deadpan voice, clearly uninterested in Mae as long as she wasn’t sabotaging Bea’s flirting.

“She’ll be able to handle her alcohol better this time,” Bea said. She shot a look at Mae. “She promised me, and she knows I’ll kick her ass if she gets trashed.”

“And don’t I know it. Just wave at me when the guys return with drinks!” Mae purred.

She scampered off to the dancefloor, where she started swaying her hips to the bouncing trance music and scanned the basement for a particular form. Dorks of all shapes, sizes, and breeds shifted their bodies in various awkward yet endearing ways, others passively stood, mouths unmoving except to sip or chug away at their heavily spiked drinks. College parties were never a thing Mae felt inclined to experience, partly because college fucking  _ sucked, _ partly because of the paralyzing fear leaving her dorm room caused. The judging, jabbing finger scolded her for not being right in the head, for not doing the normal thing, for disappointing her parents wanted, for being a fuck up. 

The only reason she was even here was in hopes Bombshell would return.

That’s what Mae called her. She forgot to ask for both a name and number because the whole dating thing just wasn’t something she did often. She had only one boyfriend, she had only ever kissed him, and she nearly threw up on him the last time she got trashed. Dating felt like a lost cause. No one in Possum Springs wanted to date the girl who lost it and tried to kill someone. But Bombshell was worth the effort. No one had ever instantly drawn her in like that before. Not even the spooky symbolism of their secret handshake, a pentagram, could scare her away.

It was cool, in a weird way. Felt magical.

Mae didn’t realize she had been swaying her arms and shaking her butt and closing her eyes until she opened them, the dim lights revealing Bea’s narrowed eyes staring directly at her, an arm waving lazily waving her over. Mae shook her head to clear away the thoughts and wandered back to Bea, taking the cup that her friend extended to her. She drained the liquid in seconds and wiped off her mouth.

“Wow,” said one guy.

“I know, I’m impressive,” Mae said.

“Be careful,” Bea hissed.

“I’ll be fiiiine,” Mae replied, shooing Bea away with her paw.

As she drank another cup of mystery alcohol, Mae could only hear that voice she heard months ago, the way the Rs rolled off the speaker’s tongue as she spoke Mae’s name. Miss Brrrrowski. Brrrrowski.

“Hello there, Miss Brrrowski,” rumbled that low, seductive voice.

And Mae jumped a foot in the air, liquid spilling from her cup. Horrified at somehow fucking it up within the first five seconds, Mae slowly glanced down at her cup, then up at the familiar form, the pierced ears and lip, the vaguely light blue eyes and dyed fur, which constantly changed colors under the strobe lights. The bear grinned. “Long time no see, Brrrowski.”

“H-hi,” Mae squeaked.

“I think we should give them some space,” Jackie said, a slight sarcastic edge to her tone. “They clearly have some catching up to do.”

Bea gave Mae a slight nod that told Mae one thing. Get laid. The group shuffled away toward another corner of the room, and Mae looked back at Bombshell, still too speechless to say anything.

Bombshell stuck out her paw. “Remember our handshake?”

Mae nodded and stuck out her own paw. After a little fumbling, Mae grabbed Bombshell’s paw so that their paws together looked vaguely like a pentagram, all of their digits forming the points. Mae tried not to sweat and think about the cult that used to control Possum Springs from the dark, but Bombshell was here to remind her that that’s all over. Bombshell wasn’t from Possum Springs and had probably never even heard of it. She was safe. She was alive. The cultists were dead.

Bombshell dropped her paw and inched closer to Mae. Mae’s first instinct was to drink more to lose her inhibitions, but not only would Bea be frustrated with her, she could end up puking on Bombshell. She couldn’t let herself do that again. Just this last drink and she’d be done. She sipped, then swallowed the nervous lump in her throat. “So…”

“So how did your ghost hunting go?” Bombshell asked. Unlike the reaction faced from the older adults in Possum Springs and even Mae’s own friends, Bombshell didn’t sound skeptical. But right now, everything about Bombshell’s voice was amazing and captivating. Totally interested. Mae would consider it a win if she could at least land herself a girlfriend with those terrifying memories as the hook.

Taking in a breath, Mae started, “Oh, you know, I went to the graveyard, dug up a skeleton and then I went up to a park and looked at the stars with my friend and both times, what I thought was our ghost was following us and we ran away as fast as possible and then… Then, well… we found out he wasn’t a ghost after all.”

“If he wasn’t a ghost, was he just a weirdo spying on you? You must have been pretty intriguing for someone to go stalker on you.”

“It was actually scary,” Mae said, unable to manage a lighthearted tone, the memories sobering her up. “It wasn’t cool. I’m not happy it happened. It was really fucking scary.”

“Oh.” Bombshell glanced away for a second and shifted her feet, digging her paws into her pockets. “I didn’t mean for… You were very lively about it the last time I saw you. Sorry.”

Mae felt a panic slowly rise from inside her ( _ clear your head, Mae) _ . She wanted this. She didn’t know if she wanted to get laid or have a girlfriend or what, but she didn’t want to push Bombshell away. And she didn’t want to be uninteresting. Maybe Bombshell only wanted to talk to her because she was the crazy girl who thought ghosts were real and thought hunting one was a good idea. Maybe now she’d be bored of her. Or maybe Mae was simply acting a childish and needed to stop trying to get people to like her when they weren’t interested. Echoes of Bea’s bitter yet necessary critiques of Mae’s character swirled in her head as she said, “It’s okay. You didn’t know. I just don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“That’s fine. So… are you here because you went back to college?” Bombshell asked, trying politely to change the topic.

“No, I’m just here to keep my friend company, but she’s already found people to talk to,” Mae confessed. “I don’t think I’ll ever go back to college. It’s not the place for me. The whole experience was... It was…” Her mom’s words and her dad’s words and Bea’s words came back to her. Disappointing. Waste of money. Taking it for granted. The shapes had been too much, the pointing finger of the statue too intense.

What was she even doing here, thinking she could casually get Bombshell’s number and work something out? To feel like a competent young adult? Mae’s shoulders slumped.

“It was a mess.”  
Bombshell shrugged. “Eh, college isn’t for everyone.”

“Everyone makes me feel like a failure for it, especially when they go all, ‘I had high hopes for you. You were so smart. What happened to that? You’re throwing your life away!’ And it makes me feel like I really  _ am  _ a failure.”

“People who say that are bullshitting you,” Bombshell said. “I know it probably doesn’t mean as much coming from someone who’s planning on finishing college, but I know tons of smart people who either didn’t go or dropped out. There are many reasons why someone wouldn’t finish school.”

Mae almost wanted to say, “Take me now.” How could Bombshell be so  _ perfect _ .

Without letting the conversation stall for too long, Bombshell ducked her head and leaned toward Mae and whispered, “Do you want to go somewhere more private to talk?”

Shit.

_ Shit _ .

Mae took Bombshell’s paw and let her lead her down a hall adjacent to the main basement room (whose place is this anyway?), and she noticed how many of the doors were shut. The music slowly faded out as they progressed, and it couldn’t mask the slow creaks and thumps. Mae felt her heartbeat quicken, sweat gathering in her fur as Bombshell pulled them into the first available room. Bombshell closed and locked the door behind them, then sat down on the bed, Mae frozen by the door where Bombshell let go of her. The bear patted the space next to her. “C’mon, Brrrowski.”

Wasn’t this the end goal? What if Bombshell only said all that stuff to bring Mae in here and screw around and then move on with her life, maybe screwing her again at the next party? Isn’t this what Bea came to these parties for? What everyone goes to them for? Mae had never done this before, but she knew she definitely wanted Bombshell. That’s the reason she came to the party, too. She was the same as everyone else.

Mae sat down next to Bombshell. Bombshell raised a hand cautiously, placed it against Mae’s cheek, rubbed her thumb gently along Mae’s fur. Her lips got closer, then parted. “So — ”

Mae pressed her face against Bombshell’s, kissing her quickly and sloppily, trying to get back into the groove of it. Bombshell’s lips were soft and warm, and she reciprocated smoothly with more skill, and Mae tried not to feel sheepish. She was inexperienced compared to everyone she met. She forced herself to focus on the fact that she was kissing someone amazing.

The moment passed too soon, their lips gently pulled away, and Mae held her breath, waiting for Bombshell to make fun of her. But she said, “Well, that was sudden.”

Mae gawked. “I thought you…  Didn’t you want to — ”

“I  _ did _ want to talk. It seemed like you needed someone to listen. I don’t mind getting the advanced version of your life story,” Bombshell said. “But if you really wanted to…”

“I think… I think talking would be nice right now,” Mae said. She took a breath and exhaled, falling back on the bed, stretching her arms out. “Wow, I’m such a jackass.”

“You’re not a jackass. I gave you the wrong signals.”

Mae watched Bombshell’s form flop down, the tips of her blue hair tickling Mae’s arm. Bombshell tucked her hands behind her head. “So. Anything else you feel like sharing?”

“Well… My life still feels like a mess. I don’t plan on going back to college, so I’m picking up part time jobs in my town. But there’s at least, like, three other people who are doing the same thing as me. This one guy I know has been through five jobs in the past month alone.”

“That’s wild.”

“My mom’s upset because she wants me to have a full time job, but no one  _ wants _ full time employees with no job experience.”

“It blows,” Bombshell commented. “It’s the catch-22 of the job market.”

Mae let it all spill from her. How she felt like she was mostly a waste of space in her parents’ eyes no matter how much they said they loved her, how the main thing that caused them to go easier on her was her stay in the hospital and her days of being sick after hunting her “ghost” incident, how she failed at band practices on bad days and tried not to feel like complete shit when Bea or Gregg teased her, how some people in town have started to become blurry shapes, giving her flashbacks to all of the anxieties that came with college, and how she met God, who was kind of an asshole who said nothing really mattered at all. And the whole time, Bombshell offered casual affirmations that everything fucking sucked, her fingers locking together with Mae’s.

“I was never a religious person, so it’s kind of comforting knowing nothing really matters, so we should just have fun while we’re here,” Bombshell said.

“Huh.” If only enjoying her own existence was easy.

Bombshell squeezed Mae’s hand and searched her pocket for her phone, glancing at the large clock on its face. “It’s almost midnight. Shouldn’t you go find your friend?”

“Maybe,” Mae said, sitting up, holding tight onto Bombshell’s paw. “Who knows, maybe she’s in one of these rooms causing the awkward sex sounds coming in through the walls.”

“They’re so thin. It’s like I can hear every single thrust.”

“God, right?”

Bombshell rose and ran a paw through her tuft of blue hair. “I should probably head out, though. Got work tomorrow.”

“You have a job  _ and _ attend classes? You’re getting stuff done.”

“I work at a food stand on campus for a few hours a week. Nothing big,” she said, stifling a yawn. “Just something for work study.”

“Nice. Better than me.”

Bombshell let out a breathy, slightly off-put laugh. “Don’t say that about yourself. You’re doing just fine, Brrrrowski. You’re still here and living.”

“It’s not like I’m really doing anything. Other than ruining your night by talking instead of just having sex. Something that’s actually fun.”

“Eh,” Bombshell shrugged. “The occasional shagging up at parties can be fun, but meeting new people is fun, too. Especially when these parties attract the most interesting girls.” She offered a little wink.

Mae could feel heat in her cheeks and a flutter in her gut. No one’s ever really  _ flirted _ with her before Bombshell, and it felt very nice. Comforting. She was worthy of people’s time.

“You know,” Mae started, “ever since I saw you at that one party, I thought you were so cool and  _ mysterious _ . Like the handshake and the way you say my name and the way you look and how you’re just so — ”

“You’re flattering me, really,” Bombshell said, not even attempting to hide her big grin that only made her more prettier. “But I’m just a random huge fucking lesbian, not some magical being whose shit’s too hot for mere mortals. You’re very cute and interesting. I don’t often meet girls who go on an intense ghost hunt and meet God.”

Before Mae could protest, Bombshell dove in for another kiss, letting go of Mae’s paw only to cup her face. Mae’s paws twitched (she had to put them  _ somewhere _ ) and decided on setting them on either side of the bear. Bombshell flicked her tongue against Mae’s lips, shivers shooting across the cat’s body. Mae wriggled and purred. With a satisfied grunt, Bombshell pulled away. “It was nice talking to you, Mae Borowski.”

Okay. This was her chance. Mae couldn’t screw this up  _ again _ . She had to get the digits. 

“Can I… Can I get your number? So we can hang out or something?”

A deep rumble came from Bombshell’s throat. “Are you asking me out?”

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine, but I really, really enjoy hanging out with you.” 

“Here,” Bombshell said, pulling out her phone again. “Gimme your number and I can text you.”

“I don’t… actually have a cell phone yet,” Mae said, ears drooping. She must look like a loser, and there was no way —

“You  _ must _ rectify this tragedy,” Bombshell tsked. She heaved herself off the bed and searched the neglected desk for something to write on. She pulled the pen’s cap off with her teeth and scribbled the digits onto Mae’s shirt.

“Holy shit,” Mae breathed. She would never wash this shirt again.

“I expect to hear from you,” Bombshell said, crossing the room. As she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, Mae heard Bombshell click her tongue and say, “Brrrrrrrowski.”

And like that, she was gone.

Mae read the numbers on her sleeve and fell back down on the bed, feeling exhausted and buzzing with too much energy, barely able to keep a sane smile on her face. Not even the faint thumps of the music and people could make her regret anything. She danced, she had a mild crisis, and she got the girl. Living it up.

Then it dawned on Mae that she still didn’t know Bombshell’s real name.


End file.
